Page 12 of The Highlander’s Illicit Bride (Wicked Highland Lairds #1)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

S leep did not come as easily as she had hoped, and Isolde lay awake staring at the ceiling.

Her emotions churned wildly, making her muscles tense as her stomach roiled with guilt and fear.

Fleeing from her father’s castle had not been the journey she’d expected.

Not that she had really known what to expect.

When she had dreamed of escaping, she certainly hadn’t imagined, not in her wildest thoughts, of being on the run with a man her father had imprisoned.

A man her father considered a dangerous, rogue laird and enemy.

Of course, she had taken everything he said with a grain of salt—even before meeting Struan.

She’d learned long ago that her father considered anybody who did not bend their knee to him to be a danger and a threat and took steps to ensure they could not challenge him.

While gruff, and at times inappropriate, she could see that underneath that battle-scarred, tougher-than-boiled leather exterior, Laird Cameron had a good heart.

He had put himself in harm’s way to protect her more than once and seemed to be going out of his way to keep her safe.

To keep her out of her father’s clutches, just like she had asked him to.

Of course, Isolde knew part of the reason for that was because she knew where his brother was.

Whilst snooping in her father’s study, she’d found a letter addressed to Laird Dougal MacPherson.

Rather than risk keeping both the Cameron brothers at Moy Castle, her father had sent Struan’s younger brother Finlay to Cluny House.

But even beyond that, Isolde hoped her knowledge of Finlay’s whereabouts wasn’t the only reason Struan was keeping her safe.

When she looked into his eyes—something she did far more frequently than she should—she saw something deep within them.

A sense of anticipation or perhaps expectation that crackled in the air whenever their gazes met.

Neither of them had dared mention it but she swore she could see the same recognition in his eyes.

“Are ye all right?”

His voice sliced through the darkness like a scythe, startling her. She hadn’t realized he was awake. Isolde turned over on her side and saw his eyes glittering in the dim glow of the braziers that warmed the room.

“I’m fine,” she replied.

“Why are ye nae sleepin’?”

“Why arenae ye?”

His chuckle was a soft, deep rumble that sent a warm shudder through her body. Isolde bit the inside of her cheek, struggling to keep the feelings coursing through her veins in check.

“I dinnae sleep much,” he said.

Isolde paused before speaking the question that formed in her mind.

She knew she should not ask questions. She knew she should accept that this arrangement was purely transactional—she was going to tell Struan where his brother was in exchange for him keeping her safe until they were well away from her father and Laird MacPherson.

That was the extent of their relationship.

And yet, Isolde had always been a naturally curious girl.

She couldn’t stop herself from wondering about him.

There was something about the man that intrigued her.

Fascinated her. Something about him captured her imagination and made her want to forgo all those lessons about proper behavior and being a lady that had been ingrained in her from birth.

Something about Struan made her feel as if she didn’t need to hold her tongue.

It was strange and she didn’t quite understand it herself, but he made her feel safe in ways she never had felt when she was younger.

It was insane, she knew. And yet, she couldn’t help but feel as if he would never tell her to remain silent or make her feel as if she had nothing of value to say.

“I wanted tae thank ye,” he said abruptly.

“Thank me? Fer what?”

“Fer helpin’ me find me braither.”

Guilt sliced through her like a dagger, his words a reminder that she wasn’t helping him.

She was holding him hostage. Knowing that she was not telling him where he could find Finlay because she was scared and needed protection was the worst thing she’d ever done to anyone and she couldn’t stop the waves of guilt from crashing down over her.

“I love me braither. And we both love our clan—more than anythin’. With both of us… away… I worry about our people,” he said, his voice surprisingly thick with emotion. “I’m grateful tae ye for bein’ willin’ tae help me find him and return us tae our clan.”

His words drove the nails of guilt deeper into her and Isolde forced herself to take long, deep breaths to keep the tears from flowing down her face.

She was grateful for the darkness because if she had been forced to look him in the eye, she might have broken and told him everything. And then what would that mean for her?

“So, thank ye,” he said softly. “’Tis all I wanted tae say.”

Isolde was quiet for a long moment, letting her emotions settle. She stared up at the ceiling and blinked away her tears, doing her best to quell the churning in her heart and belly. When she’d regained her composure and had tamped down the wild roiling inside of her, she turned her head.

“May I ask ye a question?” Her voice was soft.

“Aye.”

“Dae ye regret savin’ me from me faither’s men?”

He was silent for a moment and Isolde fully expected him to tell her that he did. In his place, she probably would feel the same. But when he spoke, he surprised her.

“Nay. I dinnae,” he replied, his voice gentle.

“Nay?”

“Of course, nae,” he said. “When I saw ye were in trouble, there was nay question in me head that I had tae help. I wasnae goin’ tae leave ye tae be taken. It wouldnae have sit well with me.”

So he is a decent man after all…

Struan’s statement drove that dagger of guilt even deeper into her heart.

She was holding the fate of his brother hostage for her own safety.

It was selfish and cruel. She could see the love he held for Finlay and she was keeping his whereabouts to herself for her own gain.

He did not show it, but she was sure it bothered him.

Nonetheless, she did not know any other way to ensure she got away from her father—and from Dougal.

She did not know how she could safely negotiate the path out of their lands without somebody watching over her.

As capable as she considered herself, Isolde knew she was no match for an armed soldier.

“I’m grateful tae ye,” she said quietly.

His laughter was soft. “Ye’re quite a bit more resourceful than I expected ye tae be.”

“Is that so?”

“Aye. Ye’re resilient,” he said.

“Were ye expectin’ somethin’ different then?”

“I suppose I was expectin’ ye tae be softer.

Pampered. Somebody used tae feather beds and servants waitin’ on her hand and foot,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Ye’ve handled yerself a lot better than I had been expectin’ ye could.

I hope this daesnae sound too condescendin’, Isolde, but I’m impressed by ye. ”

There was some small part of her that wanted to be offended by his assumption that she wasn’t able to take care of herself, but he also was entirely wrong.

Yet, she couldn’t stop the flush that rose to her cheeks either, forcing her to turn away. It felt good to hear those words. Compliments had been rare in her life and she was not entirely capable of stopping the emotion that bubbled up inside of her or the smile that painted her lips.

“Thank ye,” she said softly. “’Tis kind of ye tae say.”

“’Tis only speakin’ the truth of it.”

She was glad for the darkness for he could not see her cheeks turning bright crimson as they warmed. She felt self-conscious.

I cannae even accept a kind word without blushin’!

“Can I ask ye a question?”

“Aye. Of course,” Isolde replied.

“I gave ye me word tae keep ye safe,” he said thoughtfully. “Why nae just tell me where they’re keepin’ Finlay?”

She frowned in the darkness, but the truth was that they were drawing close to Cluny House, the seat of Laird MacPherson’s power.

Isolde trusted Struan, but she feared if she told him now, he would insist on storming MacPherson’s keep to save his brother before forming a solid plan that would not lead them both to death.

She couldn’t blame him for his strong will, of course. But it would make an already complicated situation even more tense. Not to mention far more dangerous.

Despite the prickling and sharp stab of guilt over withholding that information from Struan, Isolde thought it best to keep it to herself. For now.

“I will. I’ll tell ye everythin’ once we’re well away from me faither’s lands,” she said. “I gave ye me word just as ye gave me yers. And we’ll just have tae trust each other.”

A long, quiet moment passed between them.

It was so quiet in fact, Isolde thought she could hear him grinding his teeth, undoubtedly frustrated with her reluctance to tell him where Finlay was being kept.

But then he let out a soft sigh and the tension that had been crackling in the air of the chamber suddenly dissipated.

“All right,” he said. “Fair enough.”

“And where… where are ye goin’ tae take me?” she asked.

“I’m goin’ tae take ye back tae Achnacarry. Once we get there?—”

“Ye’re takin’ me tae yer lands?”

“Aye.”

“Why Achnacarry?”

“Because back home, among me own people ‘tis the only way I ken how tae keep ye safe,” he said softly. “I figure once we’re there and away from yer faither’s men, ye can tell me where Finlay is and I can start plannin’ on how tae get him back.

And ye can take a wee bit of time and figure out where ye’re goin’ tae go and what ye’ll dae. ”

“And ye’ll let me leave? Just like that?”

His eyes glittered as he looked at her. “Did ye want tae stay with me, then?”

Isolde’s cheeks flushed and her heart leaped into her throat.

Not over his words. But at the way he looked at her.

There was something behind his eyes that sent a shiver of pleasure coursing up and down her spine.

It made the hair on her arms stand on end and brought a smile to her face she couldn’t stop.

Isolde cleared her throat and tried to maintain some bit of decorum. “I was just nae sure what would become of me once we reached Achnacarry.”

“It sounded tae me like ye want tae stay,” he teased.

The flush in her cheeks made her face feel like her whole head was going to burst into flames. She sniffed and tried to control it—and failed. It made Struan laugh heartily.

“Did ye think I’d try tae keep ye? Or is that what ye wanted?”

Isolde knew he was teasing her just to get a rise out of her. He seemed to be taking an immense out of pleasure in making her squirm and blush. She narrowed her eyes and a mischievous grin stretched her lips as she decided to turn the tables on him.

“Or is that what ye want?” she countered. “Is it ye who wants tae keep me? Is it ye who cannae bear tae be without me?”

Struan gaped at her for a moment, his face blank. He clearly hadn’t expected her to turn it around on him. After a long moment, he shook his head and chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“Ye’re a cheeky one, lass.”

“Aye. When it suits.”

“I vowed tae keep ye safe,” he told her. “I’m a lot of things and nae all of them are good, but I am a man of me word. And I can promise ye that whatever happens when we get back tae Achnacarry will be up tae ye.”